


Beautiful Dream

by ck_suitcase



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, F/M, Las Vegas, Red Kryptonite, Romance, Superman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ck_suitcase/pseuds/ck_suitcase
Summary: Episode 4x11, Unsafe. Alicia teleports her husband-to-be to Vegas. As she prepares to say ‘I do,’ she gets better acquainted with the color red, and the morally gray, and a Clark Kent without boundaries or limitations.





	Beautiful Dream

Alicia was halfway through French III when she was sent to Belle Reve Sanitarium, so she came in wondering if she really teleported into Clark Kent’s bedroom at all. For a year, she slept alone beneath blankets designed to be more indestructible than warm, staring at walls that were always painted to mimic the suffocating, smokey hue of a pencil point. The longer she was confined, the more she came to hate the fantasy of escaping to an island paradise. The building’s every dark corner was sterilized with a chemical that reeked of sweet, tropical fruit.

Most of the other patients knew Clark, but she was the only one who loved him. Dr. McBride said it was a sick love, as much a threat to her sanity as the meteor rock in her bloodstream, but those risks could be avoided. She got better. And she had a good chance of staying that way, so long as she kept wearing the bracelet that took away her powers, and so long as she steered clear of the boy of her dreams.

Being happy, though… Being free was more important than staying better.

“So, how fast can you get us to Sin City?”

“Um. I don’t know, a couple seconds? Distance doesn’t matter when I teleport.” 

“Impressive. I’m almost jealous.” 

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

Clark had not moved from his seat on the loft futon. His arm was draped over the backrest, his posture relaxed and careless. The stones on the necklace she made for him caught the light, sending little red reflections out to speckle his bare chest. His eyes were tracing the shape of her backside through her skirt. They lingered there, unashamed of the fact that she caught him ogling.

She turned to gaze out at the sprawling acres of the Kent farm, so she wouldn’t have to see him and the red stones anymore. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

There was a surge of wind so powerful, it lifted her hair completely off her shoulders and chilled her neck. She got goosebumps. And then Clark’s arms twined around her waist, covered in familiar red and blue plaid, presentable in an instant.

She traced his forearm down to his fingers and held his hand to her hip, letting loose a short, startled laugh. “That was fast.”

“Wait until you see what I can do at a casino,” Clark blurted into her ear. “We’ll make the Luthors look like paupers. You can have whatever you want.”

She shook her head, her voice much softer than his. “I just want to be with you.”

She closed her eyes, concentrating on where she wanted to go, trying to remember how the whole process worked. It was the first time she had tried to teleport in months, and it felt strange and a little achy, like her abilities were a muscle that went neglected for too long. She was used to the added weight of the lead in her veins, holding her to the same laws of space and time that entrapped everyone else. With the bracelet was gone, she seemed too light, dizzy, her body tossed out of the practical control of the universe and left to its mutant devices. 

The feeling reminded her of when it was all new—the day the meteors came. She had been so small, a little girl on her swing set, but the sky was huge and indifferent. Space rock had shredded through braided pigtails and tennis shoes, consuming everything she was in a roaring, blinding blast of earth. In what should have been her last instant, she was nothing but a screaming, raw need to get away, to go—go right now, to please, please be anywhere else. 

It was that frenzied drive to escape that saved her. Something in the rocks latched onto Alicia, or maybe what was left of Alicia had latched onto the rocks, and her desperation became her greatest asset.

Now, she was altered again. Different. Heightened, somehow. She was more, but she could also be reduced to much less. She dissolved herself and Clark down to particles and energy and willed them hundreds of miles out of state. They jumped out of existence and resurfaced on the next second behind an incredibly iconic welcome sign.

Just like that, they were in Las Vegas. Just like that, she didn’t have to worry about Dr. McBride anymore.

Alicia spun in the abruptly dry desert breeze, lifting her hands toward the open sky with a triumphant yell. “I did it! We made it!” She took a few steps toward the glimmering hotels in the distance, then hopped back to Clark. “I feel like I lost a thousand pounds.”

“I hope you never weighed that much.” He grinned, “I might have to reconsider my proposal.” 

She busted out laughing, still giddy, riding on the high of success and her restored power. After a moment, though, the words themselves sank in, and there was a nervous flutter in her stomach. She couldn’t see the necklace beneath the collar of his shirt. “I thought you were beyond all considerations now.” 

“Only the unimportant ones.” 

“Oh.”

“Come on.”

Clark took her by the hand and began to walk up the street. She was taken off guard by how light it was outside. Here, the evening had just begun, and, although the sun wasn’t as high as she might have expected given the two hour time difference between this place and Smallville, they still had a little longer before the night caught up with them and the neon signs turned on. It was hard to imagine how the city could shine any brighter. The sudden ambush of elaborate skyscrapers was worlds away from their hometown.

But it was the trees that truly assured her they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

“You know, the Greeks used to give palm branches to their athletes,” she said, watching the swaying fronds above her. “It was a symbol of victory.” 

Clark looked up, then down at her, then over toward the busy road. His eyes were wider than usual and shifted rapidly from one item of interest to the next. “You want one?”

“A branch? Are you kidding? That tree’s, like, a hundred feet tall.” 

He scoffed. “That’s nothing to me.” 

“Don’t tell me you can fly.”

She said it with a playful hint of sarcasm, but his response was serious. 

“Not yet, but I’m getting there. Let’s just say I could rack up a lot of metals participating in the high jump.”

“Super strength, super leaps,” she muttered beneath her breath, nodding. “I guess that makes sense.”

She made to keep going down the sidewalk, but Clark didn’t move, and the hand holding hers became like an anchor, rooting her to the spot. She jerked to a halt, nearly falling over her own feet and bumping into a fellow tourist. The guy was older, gray-bearded, with dark eyes that barely acknowledged her embarrassed “excuse me” with a glance.

Clark didn’t seem to notice, continuing to gaze up at the palm branches. “Do you want one or not?” 

Alicia looked from Clark to the clusters of people around them in disbelief. Behind the welcome sign, they had been at least somewhat out of the way, but now… “People will see you.” 

“Good.” He laughed a little and raised his voice. “I hope the right person sees me. Someone who can get me my own show out here.” He stepped closer to her and reached out to touch her face, his fingers warm on her cheek. “I’ve got a beautiful, new bride, and we’ll need a place to stay.” 

Alarm bells clashed with wedding bells in her head. “But, your secret—“

“The only fun part about having a secret is it gives you the chance to shock the world, not that I don’t appreciate you keeping it for me for so long. You’re so loyal, you know that?”

“I tried to be. I don’t want a branch.” Alicia hunted for something to change the subject, unable to meet his gaze. “Look, let’s get a picture!”

Red polka-dotted wings made one person in particular stick out from the crowd on the sidewalk. From a distance, the ladybug costume was adorable with yellow antennae and a painted, smiling face. It was only once they got close to the shaded area that Alicia noticed the frayed edges of the wings, the spots where sweat smeared the cheerful makeup.

She dropped a ten dollar bill into the top hat on the ground and asked a stranger to take the photo with her phone. Seconds before the flash went off, she realized the ladybug was posing with an empty beer can in one hand and felt a little funny, a little deceived.

But then Clark leaned over and kissed her, holding his lips flush to her mouth, and she gasped, and her eyes shut. And, in the dark, there wasn’t anything wrong anymore. Not a problem in sight.


End file.
